Sweet Bitter Cane by G S Johnston

Author:G S Johnston [Johnston, G S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780992548438
Publisher: MiaRebaRose Press
Published: 2019-02-19T22:00:00+00:00

Dinner was eaten against the cacophony of the children’s news for Clara. Having considered her question, Flavio talked about how he wanted to travel after he’d finished school, Mauro said he would do anything not to go to boarding school in Charters Towers and Marta talked on and on about a brand-new dress. After the children were all in bed and Italo went to check the horses, they were alone. They sat outside at a table on the lower verandah, the mosquito coil smoke curling around them. Meggsy brought two brandies, and Amelia told her she could retire for the evening. And they were quiet, not a word between them for some time, looking over the fields.

‘You’re not wearing your wedding ring,’ Clara said.

Amelia looked at the white depression in her finger. ‘I removed it last night.’

‘Why on earth would you do that?’

‘You know why.’

Clara breathed deeply. ‘You can’t be seen to support fascism.’

‘There’s no law against it.’

‘Not yet.’

Amelia felt chastised and resented it. ‘They’ll send me an iron replacement.’

Clara drew her face to question. ‘What did Italo say?’

‘He’s not noticed.’ She breathed out. ‘He wouldn’t say anything.’

‘You’re playing with fire.’

Amelia didn’t want to have this discussion. For some while, neither woman spoke, the night air heavy with the shrieking of the bats in the forest, the constant frogs of the fields.

‘Widowhood doesn’t rest well with you,’ Amelia said, by way of opening the discussion.

‘Yet by not wearing a ring you choose to feign it.’

Amelia wouldn’t respond. Perhaps they should talk of the school tomorrow. Clara still had a sharp edge.

‘Does widowhood rest well with anyone?’ Clara said at last.

‘You need occupation.’

‘I have three children.’

‘Cristiano will soon finish university. The girls are nearly off your hands.’

Clara raised her eyebrows. ‘Ahhh … You’ve been stewing something. What do you propose?’

Amelia leant towards her. ‘I want to open a school.’

‘A school? …’ She sounded flabbergasted. ‘But there are schools here—’

‘An Italian school. Everything taught in Italian, to keep the language alive.’

‘You never cease to amaze me … why?’

‘You’ve heard the children speak. Their Italian’s provincial. You’ve heard Mauro. Wouldn’t you like to teach again?’

‘Of course, but in Brisbane, there’s no opportunity.’

Amelia leant forward. ‘Then move here. Bring the girls. Do what you were trained to do, rather than work in a factory as a second-rate seamstress. You and I are both lonely.’

Clara said nothing. Had Amelia gained some ground?

‘Since Paolo’s death, I’ve felt lost,’ Clara said. ‘And you’re right; when I look to the future, just a few years, what am I to become? A grandmother?’

‘I’ve done some investigations. I’ve done calculations. This is possible.’

‘I’m sure you have.’

‘Signor Chieffi, the vice-consul from Townsville, is coming tomorrow to discuss the idea.’

Clara raised her eyebrows. ‘He knows of this?’

‘I wrote to him.’

‘Do other people know?’

Amelia sat back. ‘I’ve told no-one.’ She wasn’t sure how the other Italians of the valley would respond, but the consulate had expressed some interest. Though even this had brought waves of uncertainty; she’d never dealt with someone in such a high position.

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